Dirtbags and Dozers

It's getting harder to remember

important lessons I learned last year

Dumb luck has been known to expire

just when the steaks are getting higher.

The stars all line up in order

just to build their boundless borders.

Your face is uglier than last year

liver spots on your neck and your ears

they might grow rapidly in water

slow boiled, like sick fermented soft serve.

I have seen at least a thousand times over

white daisies double-crossed by dirtbags and dozers

served to the servants on a silver platter

peacocks seared and stuffed with pearls fried and battered.

But we still play patiently

though the lights may never change from red to green.

While we await the tide rises and falls

taunting and teasing impertinent calls.

So long to all of my old habits

sucked thumbs are for the birds and rabbits

we'll eat when we're not even hungry

just bored and pitiful and lonely.

When all our compositions become useless

we'll fade away silent aimless and youthless.

And each year day hour and minute that passes

fades in the embers that burn into ashes.

And all of the castles that float in the distance

never get reached without ample resistance.

But none can know the sorrows of a savage

faced with a fate ordinary and average.

But we still play patiently

the lights may never change from red to green.